


So Dang Dark

by MythicalCatie



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Depressed Rhett, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Suicidal Rhett, Suicidal Thoughts, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-05 16:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12193725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythicalCatie/pseuds/MythicalCatie
Summary: Rhett had never been afraid of the dark. Not until recently, anyway. Now, a black room is his worst nightmare, and Link is the only one who can save him from the terror that one brings.





	So Dang Dark

“ _It’s not like I’d be a burden to lose,”_ Rhett thought to himself as he hugged his pillow closer to his chest and let tears pour out of his eyes and flow freely down his face. He’d much rather be hugging something that could hug back, some **one** that could hug back, but the only someone that could give him that right now was fast asleep beside him and Rhett didn’t think it was the best idea to wake him. It wasn’t as if he deserved the embrace, anyway. What he deserved was to lie here and suffer through the night alone with his thoughts. “ _Link’d be better off without me. Happier when he doesn’t have to take care of me anymore. He could… live his life, find somebody who doesn’t have a ton of bullshit problems and can take care of themselves.”_ _  
_

He’d put going to bed off for hours now, doing anything he could to keep himself busy downstairs. Anything that he’d had the energy for, at least, which ended up being lying down on the couch and watching television. He knew that he should have been useful and picked up the living room, folded some laundry, or did the dishes in the sink that Link had left for the morning, because at least then, the younger man would have one less thing to worry about, but as always, Rhett couldn’t bring himself to do anything to help. Link did so much for him. Why couldn’t he stop being so **fucking** lazy and do something, anything at all, to ease the workload once in a while? Why couldn’t he at least do **something** during his time downstairs? Do something **ever**?

But the same as every night, he eventually, unfortunately, had to move upstairs and to the bedroom to at least attempt to sleep. He had to leave the relative comfort of the space that he had modified to suit himself and return to one meant for Link’s specifications, **their** specifications. Or at least they used to be.

Downstairs, all of the lights had been on and the television had been, too, both of those things working together to keep his mind from drifting to places that he hated, places like… like **this**. He had had something else to focus on. Something so that he wasn’t trapped in his own mind. But the bedroom… It was cold and dark and **silent**. He had nothing to watch, nothing external to hear except the sound of Link’s breathing and of his own shaking inhale and exhalations. Nothing to be distracted with. All that he could do was sink further into the mattress, squeeze his pillow tighter, and listen to his brain attack his very being with an unrelenting vengeance. Listen to his brain tell him every single thing that was wrong with him and suggest every single thing that he could do to fix each and every last one of them once and for all. Listen to his brain explain how everybody he loved would be so much better off if he **just did it** . But, then again, he was too useless to even do that much. Too useless. Too worthless. Too **cowardly**.

Here, all he could do was remain prisoner as he was torn down, ripped apart. As he was mercilessly berated until he was willing to do anything that was necessary to make it stop, and after that, it continued still. If he had only been here a few minutes (though it felt like hours) and he already felt this way, how the hell would he make it through the rest of the night?

“ _Maybe I shouldn’t even try to make it until morning,”_ his mind continued. “ _...take some pills, drown in the tub...- I’m sure there’s a bridge somewhere nearby.”_

Rhett wondered what would be easiest. He could take down a bottle or two of sleeping pills with no issue and all it would take was picking the locks that Link had put on the medicine cabinet. Doing it that way would be relatively quick and would be much tidier than slitting his wrists. Cutting himself would leave behind blood. Lots of it. Link hated blood, and Rhett would feel terrible if he left behind a mess of that kind for the man to clean up. A mess that he’d clean up just like he cleaned up everything else in their life.

He wouldn’t have to worry about a cleanup if Rhett jumped off of a bridge. Recovery of his body would be somebody else’s job. But if he did that, his husband would have to wonder where he was when he woke up alone in bed. If he drowned himself in the bathtub, however, he’d be just as dead and Link wouldn’t have to hold out any hope that he might still be alive. Or, rather, he wouldn’t have to be troubled with the task of solving his disappearance. That would probably be the winner, the sleeping pills losing out only because they would, in theory, be painless. Rhett deserved the pain that came along with the act. Drowning probably wouldn’t hurt very much either, which was a disappointment to Rhett. But the weighing of his options was about ease tonight (though slight differences in the level of pain were deciding factors; even a little bit of discomfort made one option better than another. Besides, he had heard that hitting the water from such a height was enough to cause unconsciousness, so it must bring **some** pain), and all it would take is a few ounces of water. The tap would have to run for just a handful of seconds and if he didn’t bail out like a wuss, he’d be dead within a matter of minutes. It would be perfect. Just for a few minutes…

Of course, Rhett wasn’t thinking about what would happen after his own few minutes of suffering had ended. He failed to remind himself that Link would have years of the agony, that his best friend would forever have an empty feeling when it came to him for the rest of his life. His glossing over this fact was through no intentional error, however. He just didn’t believe that that was true. He didn’t believe that Link would miss him. After all, what **was** there to miss? A mess to pick up? Not being kissed but always being the one that kissed? Not getting to do what he loved at work every day because his partner wasn’t up to go in never mind every morning, but any morning at all? Why would anybody miss being inconvenienced, being held back from their potential?

_“He wouldn’t. He’d have so much time to himself. Could stop being a slave and start being a person again.”_

Link could do whatever he wanted if Rhett was gone- **when** Rhett was gone. Well, maybe not **anything** , but he could at least do more than errands, cooking, and cleaning. He could go out and enjoy himself. Join clubs, go to bars, make new friends. Find a new boyfriend. Find a man much better than Rhett had been. He could actually be in a relationship with somebody who carried as much of the weight in the union as he did, somebody who put in an equal amount of effort. Somebody who he didn’t have to take care of like a toddler. Somebody who could be around knives or full bottles of medication without supervision. Somebody who didn’t burst into tears every five minutes. Somebody who didn’t walk around perpetually depressed, bringing everybody down with him. Somebody who wasn’t **fucked up**.

_“He wouldn’t even have to know. I could be gone before he even woke up.”_

It was true. He could. Rhett could slip out of bed more quietly than he ever had, make his way to the bathroom down the hall, and not even ten minutes later, while Link was still soundly asleep, it would be over. All of his pain, all of his suffering. All of the nights where he couldn’t get his mind off of a bad track no matter how hard he tried and all of the days where he dreaded the moment coming when he had to be by his lonesome. All of the times when he felt like he wasn’t deserving of help, the times when he wished that nobody would help him at all. That would all end and it would be over before he knew it, before **anybody** knew it.

But if it was so simple, then why didn’t he move to do it? What force kept him in his bed?

Rhett knew that all that he had to do to banish this line of thought was sit up and turn on the lamplight atop his bedside table. He would turn it on and it would be bright again, and he could lean against the headboard, go on his cellphone, and find something else to think about for a while. It could be over as quickly as it had begun. Quicker, even. But he couldn’t do that. Link needed to sleep and Rhett needed to think about somebody other than himself for once. The noiret must be long past exhausted after having run himself ragged to handle the household today and the days before. He needed the shut-eye and even though Rhett had been given explicit permission to wake him if thoughts were keeping him up, or if he needed anything, really, the elder couldn’t find it in himself to take advantage of the allowance. He didn’t feel like he had earned the right.

The best that he could do was try to lead his mind to a place where he could think about another subject, but that never worked. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he even tried. All that happened when he tried that was his brain found a way to connect whatever completely innocent thing he was remembering to a bad quality of his or something that he had done wrong in the situation, something that he could have done differently, something that he could have done better, **should** have done better. No matter how far he attempted to stray from self-deprecation, somehow, one way or another, he always landed right back in the middle of it.

But he tried over and over again anyway, holding out false hope that one of his attempts would be the one that worked, the one that would help him escape, but each time he circled back around, he felt even worse, his brain finding progressively more hurtful things to tell him and succeeding in taking away that faith ounce by ounce.  

Before long, the blond wasn’t crying anymore. Instead, he had graduated to full-on sobs, ones that wracked his body, causing him to shake so roughly that he thought he might come out of his skin.

Even though he had tried to let Link sleep (the only reason that he hadn’t slept on the couch is because Link had made it clear to him that he’d be upset if he woke up in the morning to find that he was unaccompanied), as his distress became audible, it became less and less likely that he would be able to remain that way. Rhett was as far to the other end of the mattress as he could get, but he was bawling too loudly for that to do anything much.

Rhett tried to bite back the tears, to muffle his cries with the pillow that he was now practically strangling, - _“You can’t even keep this to yourself. Can’t even do_ ** _one_** _thing for him when he does so much for you. How pathetic,”-_ but even with his best efforts, they could still be heard from across the bed.

In the past, Link had always been a heavy sleeper. He could drift off almost anywhere if **not** anywhere, and once he was unconscious, it was very hard to lure him from that state. However, more recently, as Rhett developed his depression and the issues that came along with it, namely struggling with nighttime, he had trained himself to wake up at noises quieter than explosions, particularly the more subtle ones, but especially harrowing sounds such as this. He had to be ready at all times in case Rhett needed him (even if the other man refused to admit it).

As a result of being light in his rest, at least for the time being, Rhett’s weeping was enough to rouse him despite the fact that it was happening a good foot or so away.

Moving his hand around the space in front of him and finding that his significant other was not very near, Link felt a slight frown tugging at his lips; he understood why his husband no longer slept pressed up against him like he used to, but wished that he’d start again all the same.

 _“At least he still sleeps in the bed,”_ Link thought as he rolled over and got close enough to touch his spouse. Slinging a strong arm over Rhett’s body, Link pulled him to his chest and hugged him. It was tight enough that Rhett felt secure and enveloped, but soft enough that he wasn’t overwhelmed or crowded.

“Darlin’?” Link asked groggily, his native accent more prominent due to his half-awake state. “What’s the matter?”

It took a moment for the fact that Rhett was clutching a pillow to register in Link’s brain, and when the reason why he couldn’t seem to get close enough to the other man finally clicked, he let out a barely detectable sigh. If Rhett had taken out his body pillow, he had been like this for a while. Or, even worse, maybe he was so used to the routine of the night by this point that he grabbed it as a preemptive measure.

Upon realizing its presence, Link gently removed the pillow from between them, placing it nearby in the space of the bed where he had been moments before. Then, he pulled Rhett closer, holding him just a bit tighter as he inquired once again with a different choice of words, “What’re you thinking about?”

Rhett didn’t fight the embrace that he was currently wrapped in, but he didn’t melt into it like he wanted to, either. First off, he didn’t have the energy to struggle, and secondly, he knew that even if he did, Link wouldn’t be letting him go very easily. But that didn’t mean that he thought that he should wrap his arms around Link, too. Furl his fists in his tee shirt or bury his face in his neck and soak it with tears. Press that warm body against himself and refuse to let it go. The comfort… he could try to refuse to receive it all he wanted, but it just wasn’t his to take.

“N-Nothing,” Rhett lied even as he sniveled, even though he knew that it was very obvious that he wasn’t telling the truth. As he choked on a sob, he added, “D-Don’t worry. It’s nothing,” The additional, _Go back to sleep, I’m fine_ , was implied.

“That’s not true,” he yawned, taking care to maintain a soft tone as he began to card the fingers of the hand that he had used to toss the pillow aside slowly through Rhett’s hair. “I want to help you, bo. Please don’t lie. I can’t help you when you lie to me.” Link knew that it would take a few moments for Rhett to give in and open up. It always did. That was okay, but he needed some gentle pushing for it to happen. He wouldn’t do it on his own accord. “Just tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

Rhett always tried to keep struggles to himself. He thought that his problems were his to deal with and his to deal with **alone** , but that wasn’t the case. Rhett should know that, but Link knew it for sure, and he would just have to keep coaxing and reminding Rhett until he understood it, too. Until he understood that Link loved and cared about him more than anything, that he’d be positively devastated if anything bad happened to the love of his life, especially something as permanent as death. Until he understood that Link **wouldn’t** be able to move on like Rhett tried to tell himself. That Link would bring fresh flowers to his grave at least biweekly, but probably even more frequently than that. That Link would cry for the rest of his life for what he was without. That Link would never be able to find anybody else to love after Rhett’s passing because there **wasn’t** anybody else for him and there never would be. Link wouldn’t give up until Rhett knew that his death would be a loss, not a gain, and that it would never, **ever** be anything other than crushing.

Link had told him for months that all he wanted to do was help. That all he wanted was for Rhett to feel better. But why? Why did he want Rhett to get better when Rhett thought that he only deserved to get worse? Worse and worse and worse until he finally did what his brain had been begging him to do all along, until he finally did the right thing and ended it all. Why did Link think that Rhett was **worth** helping, worth **saving** , when Rhett could give a thousand and one reasons why the exact opposite was true? Why hadn’t he given up on him?

“It’s not im-,” Rhett took a shaky breath, debating the merits of giving in early for once and telling Link what he was thinking now as opposed to later, letting him take care of him, of everything, like he was bound to do anyhow, instead of trying to delay it. He was just so **tired** of doing that. He was just… **tired,** period. “-portant,” he finished instead.  

“It is important,” Link assured, beginning to move the hand that had a hold on Rhett in circles around his back, a slow gesture that was barely even a touch, present just enough to be detectable. Nothing could be too overbearing right now, and Link wouldn’t even dare to come close. “Anything that makes you this upset,” or upset at all, really, “is very important.”

“You s-shouldn’t… shouldn’t have to w-worry about it,” Rhett whispered, moving on from debating the significance of his thoughts. Maybe this time, working from another angle would get Link to just leave him be. Maybe tonight, Link would finally listen. “You need to take care of yourself. A-And I don’t want to talk about it anyway.” The best thing to do was keep this all in his own mind, for the burden to be nobody’s but his own. He shouldn’t take everybody down with him. It just wasn’t right.

Link wanted to tell Rhett that he should worry about it, that he **did** worry about it. That that’s what husbands did. That that’s what **he** did because he **loved** Rhett. He wanted to tell him that talking could help, that sharing his feelings and issues with somebody who could see them with a head clearer than his own could benefit him and his state of mind.

Link wanted to say a lot of things to Rhett that night, but he knew that every single one of them would go in one of his ears and out of the other and that none of them would make him feel any better than he did when he was the only one awake. So, fighting against his instincts, he threw all of those away, just like he did every night, and went a different route instead, knowing that if and when Rhett was ready, he would be the first one to hear about it.

“I finished the book you got me last month,” he whispered back, pulling away enough to make brief eye contact even though he could barely make out the shape of Rhett’s face without his glasses. It was good to look at him regardless. When Link settled back in his original position, he added, his voice still low in volume, “I really liked it and it was very thoughtful of you to pick it out for me. Thank you, Rhett.”

Somehow, the man had found the will to go to the mall and pick out a book at Barnes & Noble, then make his way to Target and get gift wrap for the present. It had taken a lot of energy, more energy than he was proud to admit, but he had done it. Things weren’t as bad, then, he always told himself, trying to discount the achievement that he knew it was.

The unspoken word in Link’s sentence was ‘finally’. He had **finally** finished the book that Rhett had gotten him last month.

_“Maybe he would have finished it quicker if he didn’t spend so much time picking up the house that you trash day after day. Doing the chores you know are yours. Living your life for you because you’re too lazy to do it yourself.”_

It wasn’t verbatim, no, but Rhett didn’t realize that he had spoken that thought aloud until Link, ever quick on his feet in coming up with replies, put a positive spin on his spouse’s negative words and said, “That’s okay. Not tearing through it in a day gave me more time to soak up each page and enjoy it even more. Gave me time to think about everything instead of just rushing. It was much better that way. Now I can actually remember small details of the thing instead of it all being a big blur.”

And that was true. Link **had** found himself appreciating times when he could read his gift more than he may have in a situation where he had a clearer schedule and could have immersed himself in its story more frequently. Though the purpose of the comment, he wasn’t **just** saying that to make Rhett feel better; it was actually the case, just like every other thing currently floating around in his mind.

“Maybe, when you feel up to it, we can pick out a new book and read that one together. You always have the most interesting and insightful comments, you know that? You’re my favorite person to read with because of that. I always feel like I learned at least five new perspectives after we talk about things.”

The more that Link spoke, the more that Rhett felt himself relaxing, even if it was only slight bits at a time. Hearing his voice was helping, especially when it was speaking compliments to override the hateful attacks that his own brain was cursed to have an endless supply of. Even though Rhett had no problem finding the negative aspects of Link’s praises, it was a good thing that the downsides weren’t the **only** thing on his mind anymore. Having something to balance them out was invaluable.

While he was calming down some, the thirty-nine year old was becoming very worn out from his emotions and as much as he tried to fight it, before too long, he found himself resting his head on the man beside him. He knew he shouldn’t have, but Rhett just couldn’t help getting comfortable. Link’s body was warm and inviting, safe and familiar, and Rhett was already being held by his arms. It was only a natural progression that he take advantage of their proximity; with its qualities, Link’s physical form was all but calling out to Rhett to cuddle up.

“And I love the way you light up when you talk about something you’re passionate about. Not just something in a book, but anything. I think it’s adorable how excited you get,” Link continued, adjusting his arm to accommodate his husband’s new position as if it was second nature, something that he just **did** without having to put in any thought.

Much like his movements, Link’s compliments were also not things that he had to struggle to bring to mind. Millions of characteristics that he was fond of Rhett for had been crowding one by one in his heart for decades, just waiting for opportunities to flow from his vocal chords. Whether he was speaking of the man in an interview or a panel, standing up and reciting his vows at their wedding, bragging about him to strangers on the street or in the coffee shop during casual small talk, or lying in their bed, soothing him through awful nights, they were always there, almost bursting at the seams for lack of space. There was never a shortage of attributes for Link to touch on, and even if he did happen to start running low, the list kept growing with every moment they spent together and would never come up empty.

It seemed like he went on for days listing one string of sweet letters after another before he got another response in return. Up until what was probably the thousandth item in Link’s essay-length ramble, Rhett had simply listened, silent except for the sounds of his tears and uneven breaths.

When he did speak, it was barely audible, muffled by the fact that he had hidden his face in the crook of Link’s neck. In fact, if the predominant speaker hadn’t been keeping an ear out for it, he would have missed the phrase entirely. “I’m sorry.”

Link wasn’t at all surprised by the apology. He got it very often, and when it did come, it was always for the same thing. He knew why Rhett had said it, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to ask the reason for it nevertheless; apologies got him talking. They started the conversation and helped Link figure out what was going through Rhett’s head that particular twilight and talk him through those specifics. Even though Link wished that they didn’t have a place in day-to-day conversation, he knew that they were vital to the current order of things in their lives and refused to ignore or gloss over them.

“What are you sorry for?” he inquired, starting to move the hand on Rhett’s back in different patterns and directions such as up and down and side to side instead of just circles, the gesture more absent-minded rather than anything else.

If Rhett was answering honestly and with full-disclosure, he would say that he was sorry for everything. That he was sorry for not going to the office, for not doing his chores around the house, for not pulling his weight. That he was sorry for not cracking jokes, for not smiling, for not making **Link** smile. That he was sorry for being so much work, for not being able to put in the effort to take care of himself. That he was sorry for putting Link through everything that he had. Sorry for existing in the first place. He could keep the list going for weeks if he did that, and it would be selfish of him to take up any more of his husband’s time by doing it. So, he summed his answer up into one sentence that encompassed it all. “That… That I’m not that guy anymore.” That he **can’t** be that guy anymore. That he wasn’t the man Link married all those years ago, the man that he fell in love with. The man that he wanted Rhett to be, the man that **Rhett** wanted to be.

“What? That you’re not the guy I gave all those compliments to? That you’re not the guy who deserves them? The guy who I love?”

Rhett gave a small nod in response to this, adding with a quiet, trembling mumble, “I **don’t** deserve them. They’re not true.” He used to be the guy that fit all of the words coming from Link’s heart, but he wasn’t anymore, and frankly, he wasn’t sure that he’d ever be again.

“You haven’t stopped being that guy, Rhett. You’ll **always** be that guy to me. You’re just going through a rough time right now and you can’t do as much as you used to, but that’s okay. We can get through it together, you and me. We’ll get through it and then we can do everything we used to again. It’s just a bump in the road,” he promised, softly repeating himself in saying once more, “We can get through this. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, right?”

There would come a day when there were more smiles than tears, when they could get eight or nine uninterrupted hours of sleep without two hours of distress beforehand, when Rhett believed the words coming out of Link’s mouth. There would come a day when the number of happy moments outweighed the number of sad ones, when Rhett didn’t debate the merits of slashing his wrists to ribbons for a brief escape from the crushing emotional pain that constantly plagued him. When things would go back to normal. When he was **okay** again. That day would come. Link knew that it would. But in the meantime, he just had to make sure that Rhett stayed alive to see it.

“Why are you being like this?” Rhett sniffled, finally hugging Link back, squeezing him probably a bit tighter than he really should have (but Link didn’t mind; he knew that Rhett needed it). “You should be tired of me. Should find somebody better, somebody who deserves how great you are.” Rhett let out a shuddering breath. “You shouldn’t waste your time trying to fix me.”

Link tightened his hold on Rhett when he returned the embrace, hoping that the gesture showed the blond that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “There **is** nobody better than you, baby. I’ve spent my whole life with you, and I’ve loved every second of it. None of those seconds have been a waste, and the fact that I have to do a little bit extra right now because you’re going through something isn’t going to change that. I’m being like this, lying here holding you and telling you everything I love about you ‘cause you’re the only one I want, the only one who deserves ‘how great I am’. I’ll go to my grave knowing that there was never anybody for me but you, and if taking care of you is what I have to do to keep you, I’d do it every day for the rest of my life. Understood? You don’t **ever** have to apologize for needing me.”

Rhett didn’t know when it had happened, but it wasn’t until he lifted his head from Link’s body to look at him that he realized that he had mostly stopped crying. Only a few stray tears fell from his eyes, now. It never ceased to amaze him how Link had such a calming effect on his headspace night after night.

“Thank you, Link,” he said and gave the weakest smile that the love of his life had ever seen as he brought a hand up to dry his eyes. The expression was nowhere near lighting up the room, but the older man wanted to show that the help that he had been given was appreciated somehow, even if the visual wasn’t what he had hoped it’d be. Link knew that it was the thought that counted, anyway. “I feel a lot better now. That really helped.”

“Anytime, bo,” Link accepted with a gentle grin, leaning up to place a ginger kiss to Rhett’s forehead. “I love you so much. Do you feel okay to sleep now?”

Rhett nodded in response to the question as he laid his head on Link’s shoulder once again, but knew that the other man would likely better appreciate a verbal answer, so he added, “I think so. But… if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could talk until I fall asleep? You don’t have to if you don’t want, but I think it’ll help if it’s not silent in here. But if you want to just go back to sleep that’s-”

Rhett’s sentence was cut off by Link telling him that of course he would keep talking. He’d do anything to help, and if that would do the trick, he was more than happy to stay awake for a few more minutes.

After Rhett had settled into a more permanent comfortable position and closed his eyes, Link continued listing off all of the things that he loved about him. With each statement, Rhett could feel his eyelids grow progressively more heavy, the one-sided conversation filling the room enough to block out his negative thoughts. However, despite the fact that Link was talking over Rhett’s musings, one still slipped through just as the older man was about to fall asleep: _“_ ** _I forgot to tell him I love him, too_** _."  
_

If Rhett were to open his eyes and profess the words now, though, they would have to start the entire process of getting him sleepy all over again. So, instead, he filed the reminder in the back of his brain, saving it to be the first thing out of his mouth the following day.

Rhett didn’t know what he did to deserve such an amazing human being by his side all these years, didn’t know what he did to deserve him sticking around through all of his hard times. Didn’t know how Link could still love him even when he couldn’t love himself. But if there was only one thing that Rhett did know, it was that Link deserved to know that he loved him more than he loved anything or anyone else. That Link deserved every last ounce of the love that he had to give, and that he’d keep getting it until Rhett bled dry. _“In the morning,”_ he told himself, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that his next thought was nothing but fact. _“He’ll be here to tell in the morning.”_


End file.
